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Because I love Christmas
Origins of Santa Claus
Frugal Articles
Recycle Those Old Christmas Decorations
Articles published elsewhere
Funky, Free and Frugal Christmas Decorations
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Mary and Joseph, a Love StoryIt might not have been just this way... but then it could have been.by Pat Veretto Joseph couldn't have stopped the grin that rose from his heart any more than he could have stopped his heart from beating. At long last, Mary was his. It seemed like so very long ago that he had first talked to Mary's father about it as they watched the young girl helping her mother with the breakfast bread. The hunk of dough was heavy and awkward in the little girl's hands, but she kept at it, frowning and setting her jaw just so - a look that Joseph had become familiar with as he watched her over the next few years. Mary had a determination about her that was bold and even a little haughty at times. Joseph smiled again, thinking of the kind of wife she would become. Not a boring one, that's for sure! He would have to be wise, and patient. Turning, he saw her again, carrying water for the evening, her long skirt swirling around her ankles as she hurried. "Hello, Mary!" "Joseph. How are you?" She seemed a tiny bit awkward, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. "I'm coming to dinner tonight, did your mother tell you?" "Yes, she did." The tiny smile was quickly hidden as Mary glanced away, across the meadow to the back of the houses. Joseph stood still, unable to say a word as he simply looked at her. She took a deep, quick breath. "Mother's waiting for the water." "Of course. I'm sorry if I've delayed you." Mary smiled then, fully and simply, right into his eyes. Joseph almost laughed out loud in delight. "I'll see you tonight," he said and walked quickly away. In a moment he was laughing at himself. Old fool, he thought, to be so taken by this young girl's smile. Immediately he felt gratefulness to the Creator for allowing this union, and determined to make time for Mary's father this very night. He respected the old man's wisdom and closeness to the Mighty One of Israel. After the betrothal was properly announced, Joseph was a frequent guest at Mary's home, learning more about this wise and compelling child each day. She was strong in her trust in the law and the G-d of Israel. She simply expected His law to answer every question and every possible circumstance, but there was more. Joseph saw in her the same kind of closeness to the Mighty One that her father had. One evening at dinner, Joseph saw that a sudden change had come over Mary and her bright conversation was quieter, less animated. She seemed to fade into the walls willingly at times, reluctant to join the conversation at all. He wanted to ask what her what was wrong, but there was no privacy to talk. Over the next few days she seemed to be more and more withdrawn, as Joseph watched in sorrow. Had he caused this? Had he said something, done something to upset or hurt her? One evening as he walked toward her home, he saw her carrying water again. He walked alongside her quietly for a moment, then, because he had to know once and for all, he asked, "Mary? What is it?" "What do you mean", she asked, glancing at him quickly, then away. "You know." He said. "Something is wrong, Mary. Do you not find me pleasing? I would never want you to be unhappy." He saw her neck tighten as she swallowed. She stood very still and straight. Joseph braced himself. It wouldn't be so wonderful after all, to have Mary as his wife if she didn't want to be. What had he got himself into? A life time of living with someone who didn't even like him! Mary was trying to keep from crying, her lips welling in the center, trembling even though she had them clamped. "Oh, Mary... " It was more of a groan and Joseph stopped, willing the emotions of the moment away. "Joseph... " She gave up all pretense and was now crying openly. "Joseph, I'm with child." All he could see was her eyes. Black pools of liquid, drawing him in. Child? Suddenly the impact of what she'd said hit him. "Mary? That's not what you meant, girl. What do you mean?" And then Mary told him about the angel of the LORD, about the overpowering presence and about the promise. Joseph was silent. "I know, Joseph. I don't understand why or what has happened to me, but I know that, as the LORD lives, it was He who did this to me." Joseph studied Mary's face. She looked sincere, she really did. And he'd never known her to tell such tales before! He could hardly stop the tears himself. "Tell your father and mother I won't be there tonight, after all," he said. And then he found himself striding away from the village, out where the sheep were beginning to gather and the cooking fires were only pinpricks in the darkening distance. Night after night Joseph slept lightly, tossing on his mat and waiting for the morning. His Mary. The one he had always wanted, always waited for. How could this have happened? He cried out to the Holy One in frustration and hurt. The law said that Mary was to be stoned, killed by her village and family. "No..." he cried to the Lord. "Find another way. Even in Mary's unfaithfulness, how could you demand her death?! Not Mary, please..." Crying, angry, fearful... in the night, he dozed off.
There was a light, a large light that came to him. From the light came a voice that sounded like a whisper. "Joseph!" He sat up and shrank back against the wall beside his cot. "Who are you?" "I am sent from the Lord. Joseph, don't be afraid to take Mary to be your wife. She has told you the truth. That holy thing within her is a child sent from the LORD." Joseph covered his eyes and shook his head. "How can this be? What can I do?" There was no answer as the light faded. Joseph sat staring at where it had been. He sat there the rest of the night, thinking and remembering each detail, thinking of what Mary had said, and how she had looked. By morning's light he had made up his mind. Never mind that the rest of the village would hiss at him and talk behind their backs. Never mind that the wedding proper would be no more than a farce. The night after the wedding they would go away. There was no way to satisfy the rite of culmination. He would not touch her until after the child was born. He stood up and stretched. Never mind all of it. He would have Mary as his wife. Suddenly, in the morning light coming through the open door, he felt a grin that came from deep within himself and slid right on out to his face. Mary was still his. Back to Christmas! |
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